Case Closed
by mirrorsedge14
Summary: Sherlock Holmes, the famous detective currently residing in modern Britain. Sam and Dean Winchester, a pair of monster-hunting siblings wanted by the FBI. Combine the two, and something fun happens...


**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**Greetings, wonderful people reading this story! I had this idea one day and decided to write it. Please let me know if it's any good and if I've got everyone in character. Thanks!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sherlock nor Supernatural; oh how I wish...**

_Chapter One: Sherlock Discovers_

John walked into the flat to see Sherlock sitting in his chair, absentmindedly holding his violin in his left hand while peering at the photograph he held in his right. John set the shopping down in the kitchen before entering the main area of the flat.

"What's that you've got there?"

Sherlock studied the photograph intensely. "Unsolved FBI cases."

John's eyebrows rose. "And how, exactly, did you manage to get your hands on those?"

"Do you remember that case we did for Mycroft a while back?"

John blinked. "I think so. The one involving the cat and the butcher?"

Sherlock nodded. "Yes, that's the one. I initially didn't want to take the case, but Mycroft promised me these if I solved it. They just arrived earlier today." Sherlock set aside his violin and stood, strolling over to a pile of file folders underneath the window. He placed the photograph inside one of the few on top before returning it to the pile.

"Solved then, is it?" John asked.

Sherlock smiled deviously. "Yes, quite so. Moving on!" He randomly chose a folder from the middle of the pile before collapsing back into his chair. "Let's see what mystery this might contain!" He flipped the file open. "The Winchester brothers... Dean and Samuel Winchester, suspected of multiple murders, arson, grave desecration, breaking and entering, robbery, assault, credit card fraud, etcetera, etcetera. Dean's the main perpetrator though, Sam doesn't have as many murders on his record... oh, apparently Dean faked his own death after being caught in the act of torturing a girl to death... They've been off the radar for a while now. Seems pretty open and shut, but... oh. Oh, what is that?" He stood from his seat and started flipping through the file more quickly, eyes skimming over each page.

John stepped closer. "Sherlock? What is it?"

Sherlock flipped the pages even faster, muttering frantically. "Beheading, burning, stab wound through the heart, the stomach, the eye, gun shot, ripped apart, choking on razorblades, stake through the heart," he flipped through even faster. "So many different ways of killing, the method is almost never the same. Odd weapons too, and most of the witness statements say that the Winchesters saved their lives..." Sherlock threw the file onto the chair, pacing and gesturing wildly with his hands as he talked. "Reported sightings of them in different towns when the murders began, and then them stopping after they arrived..." He stopped, a look of recognition dawning on his face. "Of course!" He turned to John. "John, phone a cab and let Lestrade know that we won't be available for cases over the next few days."

John looked quizzical. "And why is that, exactly?"

"Because, John," Sherlock's mouth curled into a small grin. "We are going to America."

"America?!" John burst out. "Why? What possible reason could we have for going to America, Sherlock?!"

"Because, John," Sherlock exclaimed excitedly, "because of delusional vigilantes!" He spun in a circle, arms flung out to the sides. "Oh, isn't it wonderful!" He stopped spinning and grasped John's shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes. "Oh, John, it's not every day that I get to investigate someone who mistakes murderers for supernatural creatures! Imagine how wonderful it will be, how incredibly FUN!" Sherlock fell onto the couch, laughing joyfully.

"Wait, Sherlock, did I hear that right?" John asked quizzically.

Sherlock stopped laughing and looked up at the ex-army doctor. "Hm? What do you mean, John?"

"Delusional vigilantes? Supernatural creatures? I'm a little confused; one moment we were talking about mass murderers and now we're traveling to America to investigate delusional vigilantes?"

Sherlock sighed. "Oh, John, sometimes I forget how incredibly stupid you are." He sat up and pressed his fingertips together with his elbows resting on his knees. "You see, John, Dean and Samuel Winchester are assumed to have killed a lot of different people with nearly the same amount of methods of killing. Normally I would attribute this to multiple killers and dismiss the FBI as incompetent nincompoops; now John, don't assume I'm saying they're not incompetent nincompoops, they are, but in this case they were about ten percent correct in their investigation." At John's raised eyebrow Sherlock let out a huff of defeat. "Fine, twenty percent. The Winchesters did kill most of these people, but the FBI assumed their only motive was to kill for the thrill of killing. Looking at the patterns, their actual motives are quite clear." Sherlock showed John the file, and John gave the detective a long-suffering glare.

"Sherlock, it would take less time for you to explain it then it would for me to puzzle it out."

Sherlock rubbed out the furrows in his forehead with his fingertips. "Right. Incredible how quickly I managed to forget your idiocy. These different methods of killing can, for the most part, be traced to legends of the supernatural, myths on how to kill 'monsters'. Such as beheading; it's said that vampires can be killed by removing their head. A silver bullet to the heart kills both werewolves and skinwalkers, and the grave desecration can be explained by this as well. The graves are dug up and the bodies burned with salt and accelerant, the most common way to dispose of an evil spirit. It all fits!"

"Um, Sherlock?" John questioned. "You keep saying 'most', as in 'the Winchesters did kill most of those people', and 'the different methods of killing can mostly be traced to legends of the supernatural'... What about the ones that aren't included in the 'most'?"

Sherlock snorted. "Clearly the Winchesters didn't kill them."

John blinked. "How in the bloody hell could you know that?!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Obviously, for the Winchesters to have something supernatural to kill there have to be some unusual deaths in the area. For example, bodies have been found ripped open with the heart removed, a typical case with werewolves. Later on a body is found shot in the heart with a silver bullet and the FBI discovers that the Winchesters did it and attribute all the murders to them, even when they are clearly not guilty. Such as the time a woman and a teenage boy were found dead in Iowa when the Winchesters were spotted in New Mexico. Two days later the Winchesters were in Iowa, another person turned up dead and all three murders were added to the Winchesters' record. Absolute stupidity and shoddy investigating, it's like they disregard all evidence that doesn't apply to their theory, it's a wonder those bloody Americans even solve a single case!"

John stared at Sherlock, his mouth hanging slightly open. "Wait, let me get this straight. So, your mind is basically a database on the supernatural, yet you still have no idea that the earth goes round the sun?"

Sherlock scoffed. "Really, John, bringing that up again? Of course I have expansive knowledge of the supernatural, you'd be surprised how often serial killers tend to use it in their work. I find the universe... trivial and boring."

"It's common knowledge, Sherlock! It's... it's grade school level!"

The detective sniffed, turning up his nose. "It's unimportant and silly."

John sighed, giving up. "Fine, whatever. Well, all this is good and dandy, but WHY exactly does this warrant a trip to America?"

Sherlock's eyes lit up. "Why, so we can track them down!"

John's expression went deadpan. "You want to track down the murderously delusional serial-killer vigilantes?"

"Of course."

John huffed in exasperation. "I'm not even surprised. Not even. Do you know how sad that is?" He let out a long, unhappy sigh and walked into the kitchen. "I'll call Lestrade. On second thought..." He called back to the living area. "Sherlock, should I give Mycroft a ring as well?"

A muffled voice yelled back. "Absolutely not! He doesn't need to know!"

John shook his head at his flatmate's antics and picked up the phone, dialing Scotland Yard's number. "Hello? Yes, this is John Watson, could I speak to Lestrade?... Ah, hello Inspector. Sherlock asked me to inform you that we won't be taking cases for a few days... We're taking a trip to America... Yes, America... Why? Umm..."

A shout came from the other room. "Tell him we need milk!"

"Sherlock, that makes no bloody sense!"

"Well we do!"

John sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers before returning to his conversation with Lestrade. "Sorry about that. He wants to prove the FBI is full of idiots."

John heard Lestrade sigh wearily into the phone. "_Well, it is Sherlock after all. Suppose I should be glad he's taking a break from terrorizing the department... Well, thanks for the warning, and let me know when you're open for cases again._"

"Will do, Inspector. Have a good day!"

"You too, Watson. Goodbye."

John hung up the phone and walked into the living area. "Alright, I let Lestrade know-" He spotted Sherlock on his computer, and rushed over, slamming the laptop shut. "What the bloody hell are you doing?! That's my laptop!"

Sherlock sniffed. "I booked our plane tickets. Get packed; we leave in an hour."

"An hour?! Sherlock, that's not nearly enough time!"

"We'll make do!"

"SHERLOCK!"

**I thank all you beautiful people for reading and I hope you enjoyed :). I apologize for the shortness... I wanted to make it longer but wasn't quite sure how. Hopefully the next chapter will be longer, when I write it... I must warn you my update schedule will by krazee considering the fact that FOR SOME REASON I spew out multiple fanfictions at a time... Well, leave me a little tibit of helpfulness or happiness and come back soon!**

**Bis dann!**

**~mirrorsedge14**


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